"You know," Blaine said, flipping the hood of his jacket up. "When I suggested we go for a walk, I didn't mean to walk the perimeter of Westerville."
"Oh, hush." Kurt mumbled, folding his arms in protection of the cold. "We were talking in the moment and-" a loud boom crashed overhead, cutting Kurt off his sentence. Kurt gave a small yelp of surprise, and by instinct, Blaine grabbed his boyfriend's arm protectively.
"What's going on?" Kurt asked, looking up at the sky. "Thunder, but no rain."
"It's a lightning storm," Blaine supplied, looking up as well. It was already night out, the only light coming from – ironically enough – the clouds. Aside from their normal occurrence of electricity, they were a sickly green, giving the neighborhood a creepy feeling. "We need to get out of here."
"No kidding." Kurt whipped out his phone, fumbling with they dials. "Wes lives by here, right? I'll call him and we'll get a ride." Blaine nodded in agreement. In truth, he'd rather just finish the walk home, the lightning giving him the sense of oncoming adrenaline and adventure. But he knew how much Kurt got freaked out by being outside during a thunder storm, and how much his dad hated it when he was in one.
"Wes?" Kurt said into the receiver. "Yeah it's me. Listen, Blaine and me are by the uh," Kurt craned his neck back a bit, trying to see across the street and down the small hill. "The Safeway by the Starbucks. Do you mind picking us up?" A pause. "Thanks." Kurt hung up and stuffed the device back in his pocket. "Wes said he'll pick us up and bring us back to your place."
"Cool." Blaine said, looking around, trying to hide the disappointment.
"Let's hurry." Kurt shuffled his jacket a bit before speed walking to the convenience store about two minuets away. Blaine huffed out a sigh, taking his arms out of his pockets. One of the things about Kurt was that he could walk fast. Faster than normal people. When he went into full speed walking mode, Blaine had to jog just to keep up.
As Blaine jogged and Kurt walked, a louder crack of lightning flashed ahead. Kurt screamed and Blaine threw his head back and laughed, willing the rain to start pouring down. The closer they got, Kurt started to run, leaving Blaine to sprint behind. The lightning was now overhead, and Blaine was unable to wipe the smile off his face. Kurt ducked under an onie right as the sky illuminated again, and Blaine followed under, tackling his best friend with a hug.
"Seriously Blaine!" Kurt said, trying to shove the smaller boy off. "We could get stricken and could die. This isn't funny!"
"Aw, but it is fun!" Blaine pouted, leaving Kurt to sigh and shake his head. Almost immediately Wes pulled up in what Blaine knew to be his mother's white van.
"Get in losers," he shouted out as he rolled down the window. "We're going shopping!"
"Mean Girls!" Kurt shouted the origin of the quote. He waited a moment before running to the car and sliding in dramatically. Blaine would like to note that Kurt was very graceful and ninja like as he did so.
Blaine backed up a bit, moving himself into the running pose. Kurt took the imitation of a ninja, leaving Blaine no option but to act like a secret agent. Giving himself a running start, Wes hit the automatic door opener button right as Blaine grabbed the roof and flew his way in.
"Drive." Kurt urged. Wes complied, turning out of the parking lot.
"What were you two doing out here anyways?" He asked.
"A walk." Blaine replied, buckling his seatbelt. "It was supposed to be short, yet Kurt managed to make it two hours long."
"Not my fault!" Kurt fought. Blaine rolled his eyes.
"Whatever." They drove in silence the rest of the way, Wes eventually pulling to the curb by Blaine's house.
"Thanks Wes!" Blaine said, stepping out of the car.
"No problem." Wes shrugged. Blaine stood out, waiting for Kurt to come out. Kurt opened the passenger door, literally jumping out. Right as he did so, the lightning screamed, causing his porcelain skin to glow, his hair capturing the spare light in the hair sprayed strands.
Blaine tried not to let his mouth water.
Without saying anything, Kurt ran up to the house, yanking the door open and running in. Blaine laughed, following his boyfriend.
"You are so dramatic!" He exclaimed, shutting the door with his foot.
"Blaine, we could've died."
"And you emphases the drama!" Blaine shook his head, shrugging off his jacket and setting it on the coffee table. "You're not helping your case here, Kurt."
"Shut up." Blaine rolled his eyes, walking down the hallway to the living room of his house.
"Mom?" He called out. When there was no response, he tried again. "Mom? Dad? You here?"
"Maybe they're on a business trip." Kurt guessed behind him.
"But they usually leave in the morning for those," Blaine mused. "Nice guess though." He walked into the living room, all the lights on. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Blaine shrugged and made a move to turn around, but then something caught the corner of his eye. Snapping his head back, he saw it as his mothers phone.
"K – Kurt," he gasped. "My moms phone is here."
"So?" Kurt asked, resting his chin on Blaine's shoulder.
"So? Kurt, my mom never leaves without her phone, she hates the feeling without it." He turned around, looking fearfully at Kurt.
"Didn't you say you had cousins coming to visit? Maybe your folks just went to go pick them up." Kurt tried to reassure. Blaine thought it over.
"Huh. You're probably right." He smiled at his boyfriend, lightly pecking his lips. "What would I do without you?"
"Freak out over nothing." Kurt smirked, lightly pushing Blaine's shoulder. Blaine shoved back playfully.
"You hungry? We've got watermelon." Kurt made a face.
"Yeah, but your family eats watermelon so weirdly."
"Don't judge," Blaine scolded, but led Kurt into the kitchen all the same. He reached a cabinet, opening it and grabbing two spoons, handing one to Kurt and keeping the other for himself. He then stretched his arms out to the counter, grabbing the half of the melon and carrying it to the table. He set it down, ripping of the protective cover of tinfoil and digging his spoon into the bowl like fruit, taking a bite of it.
"You're so strange," Kurt observed, but joined him anyways.
"What's the point," Blaine said slowly through a mouthful of watermelon. "Of cutting it all up, when it's already in a bowl like substance and right there?"
"To be civilized." Kurt said, taking a spoonful.
"I am civilized!" Blaine argued. "I wear hair gel, thank you."
"Yes, and you stuck your tongue out at an old lady smiling at you in the supermarket, Blaine."
"I was six!" Blaine proclaimed. "It was self defense at the time!"
"Yes, because old ladies are horrifying." Kurt smirked. They continued to talk over everything and nothing, both of them laughing and crying out in surprise when the watermelon bowl tipped over, spilling sticky juice over Kurt's arm and Blaine's shirt. Kurt covered his eyes with his hand and laughed at Blaine's pout as the stain spread over his shirt.
"I'm going to go change," he decided, standing up. He handed Kurt a towel and walked into his room. Stripping off his partially soaked sweater vest, he replaced it with a plain (rather ugly) mustard yellow t – shirt. He usually used it as a pajama shirt, but he wasn't going out again that night, so he figured it would be all right to wear it. He was about to walk out of his room when his clock caught his eye.
It read 9:03.
Scrunching his eyebrows in concern, he walked out, crossing his arms and looking around his house, which seemed to just have grown a new eerie look to it.
"Hey Kurt?" He said, leaning up against the stair barrister.
"Yeah?" Kurt looked up from cleaning his arm.
"My cousins plane landed at six. I left for the walk at seven. From here, it takes half an hour to get to the airport, and another thirty minutes to get back. My parents should've been back by 6:30. 6:45 at the latest.
"And the problem is…?" Kurt asked, raising a delicate eyebrow.
"Kurt," Blaine said slowly. "It's 9:05." Kurt blinked, both his eyebrows shooting up this time.
"Well it's okay." Kurt said. Blaine sat back in his chair, curling his knees up to his chest like he did whenever he was upset or just needed to think. "I mean, they're probably just out."
"Where? Kurt, it's barely past nine o'clock on a Saturday night. There is a lightning storm out, and my cousins are meant to be here. My mom also left her phone here, which is something she never does." He tried to emphases that part, noticing that Kurt didn't seem to understand the importance of this.
"Blaine, it's okay." Kurt tried to reassure, but Blaine could see the concern edging in his voice too. "I bet that there was a, I dunno, a toilet paper sell out that they couldn't resist." Blaine gave Kurt a lame look, but smiled at him all the same.
"Or they could've gotten kidnapped." Blaine joked. Kurt snorted.
"Pfft. Yeah right. Blaine, who would want to kidnap your mom? She's one of the nicest people in Ohio."
Well, that was true.
"Right, but Kurt. She left her phone here. She never-" He was cut off as the floor from the upper levels creaked. He turned his wide eyes to Kurt.
"Did you hear that?" He whispered.
"I – It was probably just the wind." Kurt said, trying to be reasonable. It was then Kurt's turn to crack his neck to Blaine's direction, ice blue eyes clearly scared.
"You don't think there was a tornado warning and they are just hiding out in the basement?" Blaine shook his head, knowing that option was out of the question.
"No. There would've been an alarm siren going off throughout Westerville to warn everybody. Besides," he looked around, "all the windows are opened. If there was a tornado, even my crazy parents would've closed the windows." Kurt nodded, satisfied with Blaine's prove.
"Okay, so that's out. Family emergency?"
"Again, my mothers phone. You don't get how much she hates going out without it. It drives her nuts. Besides, dad would've called me, even if mom left her phone home."
"Alright, so that's out." There was a pause, before Kurt groaned. "Blaine, do you know what this is?"
"Freaky?" Blaine guessed.
"No. This is a stupid, cheesy, horror movie plot. It's dark out, there's a lightning storm, and any minute now, the phone's going to ring, reading 'unknown number'." Blaine laughed at the creepy similarities, unable to resist joining in.
"Right. And then we're going to be idiots and answer it. And on the other line a person in a gruff voice will say 'I'm coming after you.'" Blaine mimicked a villains' voice from a horror movie, gaining a choke of laughter from Kurt.
"Exactly. And then we're going to ignore it, until the second call. By then, we have called the police, and because the can trace calls, we wait patiently as we anticipate where the caller is coming from."
"And then the police will call us back," Blaine said, dropping his voice lower to add to the ridiculous drama.
"And they'll say, - uncertainly, mind you, - "Sir-"
"The caller," Blaine continued, mirroring Kurt's smirk.
"Is in your house."
"And then we'll drop the phone, it automatically disconnecting."
"We'll be stupid, and instead of getting weapons, we'll walk upstairs."
"Into the Childs room, where the rocking chair is creaking horribly."
"We open the door, peering in. Nobody seems to be there." Kurt waved his fingers, as if telling a ghost story.
"But then there will be a flash of lightning,"
"And the caller will be right there, with a ski mask covering his face,"
"He's holding a knife," Blaine interjected.
"He'll hold it above his head. And you'll scream, but the sound is blocked out by another flash of lightning and a drum of thunder." At that exact moment, the screech of thunder shook the house, and both boys jumped, looking wildly around. After a moment, they both laughed carefully, clearly paranoid. Neither of them heard the other creak of wood the next level up.
"Blaine?"
"Y – yeah?" He answered, trying not to stutter.
"Maybe we should check to make sure your parents are actually gone."
"Good idea." They both stumbled out of their seats, rushing to the garage door. Blaine opened it, peeking in. He closed it quietly, white faced.
"Both cars are gone."
"Well then," Kurt said nervously, twisting his fingers. "Maybe they're just out. Toilet paper sale, remember?"
"Both cars?" Blaine walked shakily back to the table, sitting in his familiar chair. "Kurt, I'm seriously considering kidnap here."
"Blaine," Kurt walked back over, placing his hand on the smaller boys shoulder. "We can call the police if you're that worried." Blaine shook his head.
"No, I'm being stupid. There aren't even any signs of struggle. I'm paranoid. They're fine." He threw his arms out in front of him, stretching his fingers and shoulders. "Can we go to your house?" He asked quietly.
"Sweetie, there's a storm out, and it's late. I wont be able to get you back home in time if we left now. And besides, you picked me up remember? We have no way to get back." Blaine snapped his head up, eyes growing at Kurt's words.
"You mean we're stuck here?" It only took Kurt a moment before his already light skin paled.
"Oh god," his hand covered his mouth. Blaine shot out of his seat, rushing to the computer in the kitchen. After clicking a few buttons, he glanced back over at Kurt. "Nothing's on the calendar. They had no plans. Kurt, my parents are rich and powerful. What if…" He couldn't finish the sentence.
"No." Kurt said firmly, standing up and walking over. "We're overreacting remember? I know you're family. And even if your dad never leaves his office, he wouldn't dare go down without a fight. And there are no signs of struggle." Blaine ran his hand through his hair, trying not to hyperventilate.
Kurt's right. He's the smart one in this duo, and he's always right. Everything's fine, nothing- He stopped mid thought, when he turned around, eyes training to something on the floor.
"Oh god," he mumbles, rushing over.
"What is it?" Kurt asks, alarmed.
"It's my dad's shoes…" Blaine whispers in part awe and part horror.
"Is that a problem?" Kurt asks weakly.
"He only has two pair of shoes, these and church shoes. And he doesn't even wear the church shoes to church, only these." He looked over at Kurt, visibly shaking. "K – Kurt-"
The phone rang.
They both jumped, Blaine stumbling back, whacking into the counter. Blaine whipped around, training his eyes on the caller ID.
"Who is it?" Kurt dared asked.
"Unknown number." Blaine shook, walking backwards into Kurt's chest. They waited until it stopped ringing, but once it did, there was a tap on the window besides them. Kurt's arms circled around Blaine's waist by instinct, and Blaine slammed a hand over his mouth and Kurt's promising silence in the room.
"Baby," Kurt whispered into Blaine's ear. "I'm scared."
"Me too." Suddenly, Blaine felt something wash over him. Whether it was adrenaline or determination, he didn't care. All he could think about right now was the realization that Kurt was there with him, and that he was going to win this thing.
"Kurt, we aren't going to be the stupid girls in the horror movies that go without weaponry. We are going to search around, safely." He grabbed his boyfriend's shaky hand, dragging him to the knife cabinet. He opened it, eyes gleaming as he pulled out a chef's knife, wrapping his fingers around the handle.
"Hm, what do you think?" Kurt held up two different knifes, looking for Blaine advice.
"Oh, darling." He said, trying not to scoff. "Go with the de – boning knife. It suits your spider like fingers, and goes great with your coat." Kurt nodded in approval, setting the other one down.
"That's what I was thinking." He paused. "Our lives may be on the line, are we seriously debating which knife looks better on me?"
"Apparently." In a normal circumstance, Blaine would've laughed, but this was far from normal. "C'mon." They turned the corner of the kitchen, walking down the hallway that was once welcoming. Kurt turned back a few feet, grabbing a twelve foot pole that was apparently leaning against the wall. Blaine was holding the chefs knife tightly in his hand and he walked up the stairs. His palms weren't sweating, but he was shaking like crazy. How beautiful was this? He thought. The idea of Kurt watching his back with a small thin knife, and Blaine walking to the horror of reality with a utensil, one they would normally use to cut up the lettuce for dinner. How beautifully horrific was it that it was now the thing that may safe his life?
The both stopped at the entrance to his parent's bedroom, sucking in a sharp breath when they saw that the lights were off. The floors creaked again in the room, the sound coming from not his nor Kurt's feet.
"You stay here." Blaine mumbled. "I'll go in and turn on the light."
"I'll watch the door and listen out here." Kurt gave himself a job. "Watch your back. Be safe Blaine."
"You too, love." Blaine creeped in, keeping his back to the wall like they did in the movies. Once he ran out of wall, he walked slowly to the lamp on the opposite side of the master bedroom, every fiber in his body told him to run, but some part of his brain feared that if he did, he would create too much noise, causing him to maybe not hear something from behind him, or worse, attract the perpetrator. He got to the lamp, not hesitating before flipping it on. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light, looking around for any threats. Seeing none that were immediate, he stalked over to the bed, looking for clues.
He cringed when he saw the hat that his dad always wore was there. Seeing his father's shorts, he grabbed them, dragging them in his direction without making a sound. Checking the pockets, he noted that his wallet and cell phone were both gone. After a quick glance in the master bathroom – he didn't dare check the closet – he ran back out, into Kurt.
"All good in there?" He squeaked. Blaine managed a nod.
"Dads hat is in there. His wallet and phone gone." Kurt cringed.
"If I were a kidnapper, then I would defiantly take that. Along with the car."
"Me too." Blaine nodded. "Give us more time, police would think that they just went out."
"Exactly. Probably giving them an extra two hours. Missing person cases don't become a priority until after twenty four hours. Meaning that the kidnappers now have twenty – six." Blaine noticed how Kurt had stopped arguing over the idea of his parents being kidnapped. Another creak came around, this time from the guest bedroom. Both boys froze, looking across the landing at the room. After some silence interrupted by the thunder, Blaine spoke so quietly Kurt had to strain his ears to hear.
"Come on. Let's check there." They tiptoed over, holding the knifes in front of them. Kurt kept checking their perimeter, which Blaine was grateful for.
Thankfully, the light switch was right by the door, so Blaine didn't have to walk in to gain lighting. He flicked the switch, looking around. Nothing seemed out of place or disorderly.
"Check under the bed," Kurt suggested.
"Oh, hell no." Blaine said. "I am not doing that."
"Check under the bed! They're always there!"
"Shh!" Blaine scolded, placing his finger over his lips. Kurt shut his mouth, and they both left the room, without checking under the bed or the closet. They walked back downstairs into the living room. Blaine skillfully twirled the knife through his fingers before setting it on the couch and picking up his mothers cell phone. Sliding the screen to unlock it, he felt a sense of dread of what was on the screen.
"She was in the middle of a game when she dropped it." He informed Kurt.
"How do you know she dropped it?"
"It was in the middle of the floor. After her first one broke, she's been very careful about where she places her cellular device." He sighed, setting it on the black table. He turned, looking at the backyard through the back door window. He saw a glimpse of a figure, causing him to scream. Kurt went into action, shoving Blaine behind him and holding the de – boning knife in both hands.
"What is it?" Kurt didn't bother to keep his voice low this time.
"N – nothing," Blaine whimpered. "Thought I saw something, that's all."
"Blaine, this is about survival. Nothing is always something."
Survival.
"Kurt, my dads phone wasn't upstairs." He stated.
"Yeah…"
"So why don't we try calling it?" Kurt shoulders relaxed, and he dropped his arms to his sides, turning around to face Blaine. He was looking at Blaine as if he wanted to strangle him.
"Call him? Why the god damned hell did we not think of that before! ?" Blaine forced a laugh, dropping his knife and reaching for his mothers cell phone.
"I guess we are the idiots!" He said while dialing his fathers' number.
"Guess we are." Kurt muttered to himself. Blaine rolled his eyes, pressing the phone to his ear as it was connecting to the line. Three calls later and there was still no answer. Panic set in again.
"He won't answer." Kurt's face fell.
"Kidnappers probably took his phone." This time there was a tap that sounded as though it came from the front door. They both whipped into action, Kurt and Blaine standing back to back, in a defense pose with their weapons. Blaine could feel Kurt's shoulder blades dig into his own, and he forced his lungs to breathe.
"I want you out of here," he told Kurt. "Gone. I don't want you here when they come for me."
"I'm not leaving you. That's when they always attack, when the characters separate. They'll go after both of us." Blaine groaned, leaning his head into the back of Kurt's neck, closing his eyes.
"I am so sorry, Kurt."
"Don't." Kurt's voice wavered, words breaking slightly. "Just, don't." They stood in silence for a few moments, lightning still illuminating the world outside.
"How many do you think there are?"
"Probably four or five." Kurt sounded defeated.
"Think we could take that many?"
"We'll have to." He whispered, and he could feel Kurt's head fall forward. Blaine resisted the urge to cry.
"We're not going to bother to search the basement?" Kurt wondered out loud.
"Be my guest." Blaine responded. "But I'm not."
"You sure?"
"Kurt, there is a ten percent chance that this isn't a kidnapping. But that ten percent chance is replaced with the option of Zombie Apocalypse. If it does happen to be zombies, they would go to the basement. I don't know about you, but being a zombie doesn't sound appealing." Kurt chuckled, and Blaine smiled softly. Good, if he was going to be tortured and killed, he wanted to hear Kurt's laughter one more time.
The floor started vibrating, both of their eyes flying open. Blaine was the first to notice it, the phone. Ringing.
Caller: Carl Anderson
"Dad," Blaine murmured. He dove for the phone, hitting the talk button.
"Dad!"
"Hey sweetie," instead of his father, it was his mother on the other line. Blaine almost cried out in joy before he remembered where he was.
"Mom! Oh god, are you okay? Where are you? Where's dad-"
"Blaine, what's going on?"
"Mom!" Blaine couldn't help it, he was sobbing now, and he's knees wobbly and barely holding his weight. Kurt had sunken into the couch, his knife loosely dangling in his fingers.
"What's going on?" He heard the muffled voice of his dad on the other side.
"Nothing," Helen was telling him. "Blaine is being crazy."
"I'm not crazy! Oh god, oh god…" Blaine was rocking back and forth now, clutching tighter on the phone and handle of the weapon.
"Blaine," his mother tried, "we're fine."
"That's what the kidnappers want you to say!" He shouted.
"Kidnappers? What kidnappers? Blaine, your father and I just popped out of the house for a moment."
"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!" Blaine screeched into the receiver.
"We're at Wal-Mart." His mother said, exasperated.
"There, there was a – Wal-Mart…" Blaine knelt there, appalled. Kurt looked over the back of the couch, eyes in wonderment. It only took a moment of confusion before Blaine was filled with rage.
"What the fuck are you doing at Wal-Mart? !" He screamed.
"Language young man!" His mother said disapprovingly. "And there was a sale on toilet paper that we had extra coupons for."
"Toilet paper… Wal-Mart…" Blaine stopped rocking; the knife fell from his hand. Kurt was crying now too, something wheezing out of his vocal chords.
"We thought you were dead! And the kidnappers, and lightning and, and, Mom!" Blaine sobbed into the phone. His mother just sighed.
"We will be home in about ten minutes. Do you think you can last that long?"
"Just come home!" He cried. There was a quick exchange of goodbyes before Helen hung up. Blaine sat there, shocked for a moment before more tears came and he stood up unsteadily, gripping the knife again.
"K – Kurt?" He broke out. Kurt was doubled over on the sofa, knife forgotten. Tears were streaming down his face as well, and Blaine realized with a jolt that the wheezing sound was Kurt laughing.
"Kurt?"
"Oh god," he choked out. "We are idiots. They went to Wal-Mart for toilet paper and we go around with freakin' knifes, looking for zombies and kidnappers!" Blaine cracked a smile, starting to laugh as well.
"Yeah, we are pretty stupid. But, why are you laughing?"
"It's so embarrassing!" Kurt exclaimed. "This is the most humiliating thing that has ever happened. And I've been crowned prom queen before." Blaine plopped himself down on the couch next to his best friend, cracking into the hysterical laughter.
"It is embarrassing! You realize we have to tell everyone about this?"
"Oh man, we do! Argh," Kurt hid his face in his hands, shoulders still shaking. "We totally scared ourselves. Those taps and creaks were just the wind and earth shifting."
"We made up the whole thing." Blaine said in awe. "I feel pathetic now." He stood up, twirling the knife again in his hands.
"What are you doing?" Kurt questioned.
"If some freaks didn't kill my parents, I will. They are going to die for scaring us this badly. Kurt laughed, standing up and hugging his boyfriend, resting his cheek peacefully on his shoulder.
The End
A/N: So I would just like to note that everything in this story actually happened. No joke. Kurt is taking the place of my best friend, and Blaine is playing the role of me. This was honestly the scariest moment of our lives, and we made the whole stupid thing up in our heads. :3